Gabriel García Márquez left us today, but his legacy will remain forever.
100 Years of Solitude has the best last chapter of any book in the history of literature, IMO.
"Porém, antes de chegar ao verso final já havia compreendido que não sairia jamais daquele quarto, pois estava previsto que a cidade dos espelhos (ou das miragens) seria arrasada pelo vento e desterrada da memória dos homens no instante em que Aureliano Babilônia acabasse de decifrar os pergaminhos, e que tudo estava escrito neles era irrepetível desde sempre e para sempre, porque as estirpes condenadas a cem anos de solidão não tinham uma segunda chance sobre a terra."
"Before reaching the final line, however, he had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages) would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men at the precise moment when Aureliano Babilonia would finish deciphering the parchments, and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth."
We've lost so many good ones this year. So sad to see.
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